


Better Living Through Biochemistry

by Rubynye



Category: Original Work
Genre: Catboys & Catgirls, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21635053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: He stank so good.(Prompt: ‘Helpful’ man/ Unwilling catboy in heat.)
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, original male character/original catboy character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2019





	Better Living Through Biochemistry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heavensblessing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavensblessing/gifts).

> Written for the 2019 Consent Issues Exchange. Heavensblessing, I very much hope you like this!

He stank so good.

Every time K’ailoun, the Felidian exchange student working at Mel’s grocery three doors up, stopped by the pharmacy counter, it was all Peter could do to swallow hard and keep his greedy breaths unnoticeably shallow as he filled the prescriptions collected by the twitch-eared catboy. He chatted as long as he dared, looking into green slit-pupiled eyes and at a wide smile punctuated with one delicately sharp canine, gulping down his own saliva and every savory breath of the boy’s rich musk, as his trousers tightened and his knees weakened, as K’ailoun grinned and waved and turned to go, his sleek grey tail waving goodbye.

Peter waved, and smiled, and took his bathroom break as soon after as he could, to masturbate frantically as he wallowed in that glorious scent coating his nasal passages and streaming down his throat, until he gushed up from his depths, until he swallowed the last remnants, until he had to wash his hands and button his white coat and return to his work. Until the pretty catboy’s next redolent visit. 

But Peter also thought, while his head was clear and his nose full of nothing but antiseptic and industrially filtered air. He considered, and planned, and injected a water bottle with sedative, pushing the needle through the glued patch beneath the label, smoothing the glue back into a watertight seal afterwards, tucking the bottle into the inner corner of his personal mini fridge. He stayed late one night, preparing a special batch of heat suppressors, painting the pills with an enzyme solution that would digest the medicine before it could be absorbed, then re-coating them carefully so they’d look normal, and finally labeling the batch with K’ailoun’s name and codes. 

Peter thought, and breathed carefully, steadying himself as he handed over the deactivated heat suppressors to the bright-smiling catboy, until he went home and curled around a pillow and humped it to orgasm and waited.

Until K’ailoun appeared in his pharmacy at the tail end of a long hot day, sleek fur dappled with darker sweaty patches, pupils blown so wide they were almost round, trembling with chills, requesting emergency suppressants as his traitorously honest tail lashed about behind him. Peter nodded, so hard between his legs his erection radiated shiversome pulsations through his body, and offered K’ailoun brightly coated sugar pills and a bottle of chilled water to wash the first dose down. As quickly as he could Peter shut down the counter for the day, then came around it and wrapped a steadying arm around K’ailoun’s shaking shoulders, leaning his cheek on K’ailoun’s damp-silk hair, drinking in his even richer, even deeper, even earthier scent. 

“Let me help you get home,” Peter said gently, restraining his hungry fingers from digging into the heated curve of K’ailoun’s shoulder. “My car’s out back.” And K’ailoun nodded, and smiled, that longer canine gleaming. 

By the time they reached the car K’ailoun was losing coordination, batting at the seatbelt, which Peter fastened for him, breathing slowly as he leaned over. Another two minutes and K’ailoun was completely out, slumped against the car window, lush mouth slack. Peter stared straight ahead at the road and the traffic — so close, so close, it wouldn’t do to lose everything to an accident now — but every time K’ailoun twitched in his sleep Peter shivered in sensitized sympathy. 

An eternal five minutes and he reached the student towers, circled through the garage, pulled into the spot for K’ailoun’s flat, parked mechanically. He took his deepest breath yet of the boy’s intoxicating scent. Then he popped the glove compartment, pulled out a small peppermints tin, and removed an oval blue pill, a guarantee he’d be able to give K’ailoun his due. Peter’s mouth watered so hungrily he had no need of any drink to wash his little helper down. 

Peter had long ago memorized K’ailoun’s address, and carried him inside easily, into the elevator, down the hall, all the way to his flat. Lifting K’ailoun’s limp hand to the door pad, Peter shouldered open the door and then shut it by leaning against it as he looked across the tiny single room. Just a rumpled bed, a shower nook with a curtain, a food cubby, a desk piled with books and papers and one wooden chair. 

Peter inhaled, already tasting K’ailoun on his breath, and figured out what to do. Striding over to the desk he pushed the books aside to drape K’ailoun facedown across it, shook out his trembling fingers, and methodically stripped and arranged K’ailoun, piling his clothes on the chair. Stripping off the sweat-sticky shirt was difficult enough, with all that sleek grey fur revealed, translucent and fuzzy enough for pale skin to show through, but unbuttoning K’ailoun’s jeans at fly and tail-button made Peter’s fingers fumble as his pulse pounded in his dry throat and aching dick. Limp and flushed and finally naked, K’ailoun was even more beautiful than Peter had ever dreamt, and he piled the books blindly beside the desk and yanked off his own outfit almost roughly enough to tear it, unable to look anywhere but K’ailoun’s long back and sweetly rounded bottom, gasping in deep breaths of his ever-richer scent.

At last, at last, they were both ready, and just as Peter palmed the lube he’d tucked into his pocket hours ago, K’ailoun let loose a low sluggish moan. Aware he’d be safely uncoordinated for hours yet, Peter kept going, squeezing lube across his fingers and swiping it down K’ailoun’s heated cleft, and as K’ailoun’s long-lashed eyes flared open his moan rose into an indignant yowl. “Wha-at?” he wailed, his soft tenor voice distorted by shock, his clawed toes scraping at the floor, and Peter made shushing sounds as he stroked the back of K’ailoun’s neck. “What are you—?”

“Shh,” Peter assured him. “Shh, lie down and let me—“

K’ailoun swiped backwards at Peter, claws riffling through his chest hair. Well, that wouldn’t do. Scrubbing his wet hand across his thigh, Peter reached for K’ailoun’s shoulders, stroking down his tension-hardened arms, gathering his wrists behind him as he finally choked up, “Stop!”

“Don’t be silly.” Peter tugged K’ailoun’s uncoordinated wrists to the small of his back, gathered up his twitching tail, and wrapped it around them in a gentle knot. “You need this.”

“I need— my head’s all — you did — something to me!” K’ailoun tried to raise his hanging head but it sank again, so all he could do was roll one eye into a backwards glare, bright green ringing wide black, as Peter took a bracing hold of his hip with one hand. 

“You’re in heat,” Peter reminded him, pushing his cock slowly, gently between those taut lube-slicked buttocks, his thighs to sleek soft fur over ropy muscles. 

“Stop,” K’ailoun yowled, drawn out and wailing, “stop, I don’t want—“

“Your cock wants everything right now,” Peter said, tucking one hand between K’ailoun’s hips and the desk, palming hot rigidity. “To say nothing,” as K’ailoun’s entrance fluttered and flexed against his steadily pushing cockhead, “Of this sweet hungry ass…” as he pushed in, and in, K’ailoun shivering all around him, his cock throbbing in Peter’s hand, his hands clenching on air.

“No,” K’ailoun tried once more, hardly a word, his voice sinking lower as every sleek inch of him trembled desperately, and despite what he said his ass clutched at Peter as Peter pulled back, his eyes rolled under falling lids, his musk rolling up thick and hot.

“Yes,” Peter exhaled, and slammed home into engulfing heat, and K’ailoun screamed and thrashed and came pulsing in his hand.

* * *

Several hours later they lay in a gloriously reeking heap on the floor, between the desk and the bed, evening light slanting in golden from the window to match the slow warm currents running through Peter’s blood. K’ailoun lay twisted across Peter, facing away but with their legs entangled, his whole body shivering finely, his ears twitching each time Peter stroked his hair. 

Eventually he growled, smacking at Peter’s hand, his claws out, but still too uncoordinated to make proper contact. Peter caught his hand, pressing thumb to palm, and asked mildly, “Don’t you feel better?”

“No.”

“But you came four times.” Peter rubbed the center of K’ailoun’s palm.

“That’s the heat, that’s my body.” K’ailoun’s voice was low and buzzy, his words slow, his tone sour. “That wasn’t me.” He yanked against Peter’s grip. 

Peter just snorted and held on. “What are you if not your body? Which we should wash already, along with mine.” 

“Just go away.” K’ailoun curled further over, almost beneath his desk. “Before I throw you out, as soon as I can stand up again.”

Peter shifted closer to him, pressing front to back, as K’ailoun shuddered harder. “You’ll change your mind when you realize what good care I’m taking of you. Come on, let’s get in the shower.”

K’ailoun curled his claws inwards, and Peter hastily pulled his grip down from hand to wrist. Turning a little, so Peter could see his profile, he murmured, “Just wait until I have the strength to bite you,” his long canine glinting.

Peter smiled. “I look forward to it.”


End file.
